A sheep named Obama

I had a fantastic conversation with the mother of one of the women who attends my women's English class. Her mother does not speak Arabic, but she really wanted me to understand her Tashelhit. She was wearing cartoonishly thick glasses and an unexplained sock on one hand and she cared for me like I was her own child. She sat right down next to me, turned toward me and didn't take her hand off my back the whole time we were talking. When I didn't understand her, she would repeat, and mime, and finally ask her daughter to translate into Arabic if we couldn't work it out.

There are a lot of God-phrases in Tashelhit after which one is supposed to say in response "Amen," but it sounds like "ah-meen." Unfortunately I am rarely able to pick these out of a sentence so I never say Amen. She was insistent, and whenever she said a phrase that had a requisite Amen, she would then say: "Say Amen." So I would say Amen. With her help, even if I didn't understand what she was saying, I was able to respond as I was supposed to. When I did understand something and responded appropriately, she pointed it out and encouraged me.

At one point, with some translation from her daughter, I understood that she had said: "May God bring you a handsome husband with a nice car." It's a wonderful compliment. Especially considering that when I told her I was still young and not planning on getting married yet, she didn't insist that I get hitched now. Whenever I am looking for a husband, may he be handsome and have a nice car. She asked me how long my mother had stayed in Morocco, and then proudly counted to 10 on her fingers in Arabic. I said 10 days. She seemed so happy to meet me and to learn about me and my family, even if my Tashelhit conversation skills leave something to be desired.

Additionally, my host family's neighbors have named their black and white sheep Obama.